


Somewhere in the T's

by pepperlandgirl4



Category: Hot Fuzz (2007)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 20:05:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8259019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepperlandgirl4/pseuds/pepperlandgirl4
Summary: Set some months after the end of the movie. There's DVDs and kissing and switching off.





	1. Chapter 1

_You’re going to risk all that for a misdemeanor?_

_Damned right I am._

Nick drank from his beer, watching as Danny leaned forward on the couch, his eyes wide as Kurt Russel portrayed a very conflicted Wyatt Earp. They were somewhere in the T's now, but despite their proximity to the end of the alphabet, they still had dozens of DVDs to watch. Dozens of reasons for Nick to come over after work, or after a pint at the pub. Dozens of reasons to fall asleep on Danny’s couch, sitting a little too close to him. And Nick knew for a fact that once they reached the end, Danny would be all too happy to start over at the beginning. 

The music became louder, more intense as Wyatt Earp, his brothers, and Doc Holliday began the long walk to…Nick frowned. He wasn’t quite sure where they were going. He hadn’t been paying close attention to the movie. Watching Danny’s reaction to what was happening on the television was always more fun. But it didn’t matter where they were going—it was going to be bloody. The purposeful strides, the surprised townspeople rushing out of their way, clearing the streets, the way the music kept building and building. It was all very tense. Danny nervously chewed on his lip like he had never seen it before. Any of it. 

“This is the best part,” Danny assured him. 

Nick leaned forward, his shoulder brushing against Danny’s warm arm. The contact was slight, completely incidental. Nicholas was intently aware of it. _There’s always something going on._

His attention was drawn from Danny’s arm when the shooting started on the television. Nick’s brow furrowed into a frown. 

“That doesn’t make any sense.” 

“What?” Danny asked. 

“That man…with the shotgun…” 

“Doc?” 

“Right, Doc. He just fired three times.” 

“So?”

“So, that gun only has two bullets.” 

“Nick,” said with infinite patience, “it’s a movie.” 

“Yes, I _know_ it’s only a movie, but that was just a stupid mistake. It was somebody’s job to keep an eye on continuity and they obvious blew it.” 

“Well, what about earlier in the movie when Curly Bill was shooting at the moon?” 

Nick’s frown deepened. “When he shot the older gentleman? That was fine, he only fired nineteen times, and those were both twelve shooters.” 

Danny paused the movie and turned to face him. “You’ll notice things like that, but you don’t even know who was firing the shotgun? I think you’re watching for the wrong things. Haven’t you learned how to switch-off yet?” 

Nick straightened defensively. “I know how to switch-off. I was just pointing out…oh, forget about it.” 

Danny watched him for another moment before starting the movie again. The room erupted in gunfire. Nicholas sat back on the couch, his arm no longer touching Danny’s, but he still wasn’t interested in the movie. 

Nick knew Danny thought he was thinking about work. Not that there was a lot to think about now that the NWA had been taken care of. But people were the same everywhere, and the routine, village problems that seemed so boring to him weren’t boring to the people making the complaints. But their problems were not on Nick’s mind. 

“I know how he feels.” 

Nick looked up sharply. Wyatt was sitting beside his injured brother, overlooking a funeral procession. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Danny shrugged. “You were right, you know. It’s not something you get used to. I’m not really sorry, I just think about it sometimes.” 

Nicholas didn’t think about it sometimes. He thought about it every damned day, but he didn’t waste time on the people he shot. He thought about the one man he missed. The one man who put a bullet in his friend’s gut. 

“Danny…” He stopped, not sure what he wanted to say. That seemed to happen to him a lot lately. 

“Yeah?” 

“Never mind. Watch your movie…wait, why did they just kill that guy?” 

“Morgan? Revenge, of course.” 

Of course. 

Nicholas had been a little skeptical when Danny put the DVD in earlier. Danny didn’t have a lot of Westerns in his collection, but Nick realized this movie wasn’t unlike the other movies with Jackie Chan, and Mel Gibson, and Will Smith that Danny loved so much. There were lawmen and outlaws, tough talk and violence, and Nicholas assumed, a happy ending where the bad guy gets what’s coming to him. 

And an inappropriately close relationship between two of the male leads. 

But maybe Nicholas was just reading into things. There was one sure way to find out. 

“Why did Doc go to the shootout with them?”

“Wait a minute,” Danny said, holding up his hand. “This is the good part.” 

“I thought we already saw the good part?” 

“Well, this is good, too.” 

_You called down the thunder. Well, now you’ve got it. I’m coming, cur! You tell all the other curs that I’m coming and hell is coming with me!_

“That’s a good line,” Nick commented. 

Danny beamed. “Isn’t it? Now, what were you saying?” 

“Why is Doc riding with Wyatt? This isn’t his fight, is it? And he could have been killed.” 

“He loves him, of course.” 

Of course. 

_Don’t make no mistake. It’s not revenge he’s after. It’s a reckoning._

Danny mouthed along with the line, barely making a sound. He did that all the time, not the least bit self-conscious. How many times had Danny seen these movies? How many times had he stumbled home—or, and it made Nick shudder to think about it, drove home—after a night at the pub, only to fall asleep to movies about _proper action and shit_ alone? The thought made Nick indefinably sad. He had always been a bit lonely himself, but that had been a matter of choice. The job always made more sense to him than people. 

But Danny wouldn’t have wanted to be alone. His isolation had been forced on him, somehow. He didn’t quite fit right. He wanted to be a _real_ officer in a town that, for years, had no use for one. He was just the Inspector’s childlike son, to be pet and tolerated and protected from the realities nobody thought he could handle. And Danny, in his affable, good-natured way, had unknowingly allowed himself to play along with the charade. 

But he was so much more than that. 

“I’m your huckleberry,” Danny muttered. He glanced over. “Did you say anything like that?” 

“No, nothing like that.” 

“Shame. It’s a good line.” 

“It is.” 

“Hey, don’t forget it. Maybe you’ll get a chance to say it later.” 

_Hope not_. “Maybe.” 

“What do you want to watch after this?” 

Nick rubbed his gritty eyes. He wanted to tell Danny that they didn’t have to watch anything. He didn’t need a movie to keep him right there on the couch. He wasn’t going to leave. Why would he want to? 

“Whatever you like.” 

“I was thinking Terminator 2 again.” 

“Why? We just saw it last night.” 

Danny shrugged. “I don’t know. I just like it.” 

“That’s fine. Whatever makes you happy.” The words he just meant to think slipped out. 

_‘ello, Wyatt. I was jus…investigating the mysteries of the Church of Rome._

“What would make you happy?”

Nick didn’t really hear the question. “Is he dying? What happened? Was he shot?” 

“Oh no, he has consumption,” Danny explained good-naturedly, his impatience with Nick’s lack of attention gone. Danny was rarely impatient or annoyed with him, and when it happened, it didn’t last long. Maybe he was able to forgive quickly. Maybe he just forgot. “That’s why he was in Tombstone. For the dry climate.” 

“Oh.” 

“See, Wyatt comes to visit him in the hospital every day.” 

Nick nodded. Of course, Wyatt visited Doc every day. Nicholas had spent countless hours at Danny’s side, once he was allowed to leave his own hospital bed. 

“It’s sad," Danny was saying, "but you know, at least he got to go in his own bed.” 

_This is funny._

“You didn’t answer me,” Danny said. 

“What was the question?” 

“What would make you happy?” 

“I…” Nick stopped short. He _was_ happy. That was the thing. He was happy because it had been six month since Danny was released from the hospital, and they were more than half-way through his DVDs, and Danny could say all the lines, and laugh in all the right parts, and still get excited over the gun fights. “Well, we don’t have to watch another DVD.” 

“What you thinking?” 

They got to this point almost every single night. Nicholas right on the edge of saying _something_ , and Danny waiting patiently, a little expectantly. Then Nicholas would flounder for a moment, because even though Keanu loved Patrick Swayze, and Doc loved Wyatt, there wasn’t actually a script for _this point_. He knew he was a capable man, but sometimes he needed a little bit of help. 

_Up or down, thin or flush, in forty years, they never left each other’s sides._

All of his accomplishments in the service briefly flashed in his mind, right up to two days before when he arrested a man for indecent exposure in the model village. The highly dangerous situations, the injuries, the commendations, the promotions, the final showdown on Sanford’s streets—all of that seemed ridiculously easy compared to this moment. 

“I’m thinking…” _Oh, bugger it._ He only needed to lean to his right a little bit. Danny always sat a little too close to him, and Danny’s head was already level with his as he regarded him, patiently waiting for an answer. 

When Nicholas tilted his head and brushed against Danny’s lips, he wasn’t sure if he intended the kiss to be a proper kiss, or just a brush of contact. He wasn’t sure if he expected Danny to push him away, shocked, or press for more. And he wasn’t even sure if he had enough alcohol in his system to justify this if Danny did push him away. How many pints realistically led to a drunken kiss? He knew how many led to complete inebriation, but he couldn’t remember the last time he had consumed that much. Probably because he had _never_ consumed enough for total inebriation, and he never even had a one-night stand. Not that this was a one-night stand….

“Nick?” 

He opened his eyes, his tongue darting out to moisten his suddenly dry lips. “Yes?” 

“I don’t mind if you don’t pay attention during the movies, but you should be thinking about me when you kiss me, right?” 

Nicholas blinked. “Oh.” The implication of Danny’s words slowly began to filter into his mind, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “Can I try again?” 

“Of course.” 

Nick turned his body, so he was sitting with his back against the arm, facing Danny entirely. This time, he was paying attention to every single detail of the kiss. First, Danny tasted vaguely of beer and salt, but there was a bit of sweetness, too. _He had chocolate earlier tonight. That’s right._ His lips were soft, and smooth, not chapped. And he was responsive, his arm sneaking around Nick’s back to pull him closer. Nick could smell him now, too, and it was a smell that just meant Danny. His aerosol deodorant, and the soap he used for his clothes, and peppermint, oddly enough. It all swirled in Nicholas’ head, and a heavy weight settled in his gut, something hot and sticky spreading through his body. 

By the time they broke apart—Nick wasn’t sure who moved away first—his breath was   
coming a bit faster, and his heart was pounding a bit harder, and he could feel a flush on his neck and the back of his hands. 

“I quite liked that,” Danny said, a little shyly. 

“Do you want to do it again?” 

Danny nodded, leaning forward. The third kiss was just like the second, except different, because Nicholas knew what to expect now. The light taste of chocolate didn’t surprise him. After a few moments, Danny’s fingers curled around his. Nick was startled, but then realized it was rather nice. Danny’s hand was dry and warm, his fingers soft. They fit well around Nick’s. It was an absurd thought, but Nick couldn’t quite shake it. 

Danny seemed to be content to accept Nick’s kisses as long as he was offering. He never pushed for more, and he didn’t pull away. It was easy. Like picking up a gun after not touching one for years was easy. Like sitting on Danny’s couch and watching movies was easy. It surprised Nicholas. This had never been easy for him. When he first started seeing Jeanine, she always seemed to want snog. Frankly, it always bored Nicholas. He enjoyed sex with her, but kissing…it always seemed like a bit of a waste of time. In Nick’s mind, it had always been a means to an end. A part of the expected routine. And Nicholas knew a thing of two about routine. 

But as they broke apart for the eighth, or maybe tenth, time, Nick finally understood. Kissing didn’t have to be the necessary first step to get to the good stuff. Kissing _was_ the good stuff. 

“You’re good at this.” 

Nick warmed. “You think so?” 

“Well, yeah. You’re good at everything you do, aren’t you?” There wasn’t a trace insincerity in Danny’s voice or eyes. If he said, _the sun will rise tomorrow, won’t it?_ it would be in the same tone. 

“I’m not.” 

“Good at everything you put your mind to, then.” 

They were still holding hands. Nick grinned. “You know, you’re quite good at it yourself.” 

Danny rewarded him with a smile—but Danny smiled all the time. This was a different sort of smile. This was the smile that meant he hadn’t expected anything, and somehow Nicholas had managed to give him everything anyway. The smile came at the oddest moments, and Nick could never quite predict it. It was Nick’s favorite smile. 

“You think so? I haven’t had a lot of practice.” 

“Why not?” 

“Well, not a lot of people have kissed me, have they?” 

_Why not?_ But Nick didn’t need to ask. He didn’t need to know the answer—assuming Danny could offer him one. 

“Funny, I haven’t wanted to kiss many people.” 

“Really?” 

“I always felt I could be doing something better with my time.” 

“Do you have something better to do now?” 

Nick shook his head. “No, not at all.” 

Instead of moving forward, Danny pulled Nick to him. The aggressive move surprised Nick, but he got over his surprise when Danny pushed his tongue into Nick’s mouth. Danny leaned back against the arm without releasing Nick, and he found himself sprawled across Danny’s chest. It was a rather pleasant place to be, so Nick didn’t resist. But his new position had one startling side effect. 

He could now feel Danny’s erection pressed against his stomach. _Is that a gun in your pocket, Sergeant?_ That line was never amusing to Nick before, but now a part of him wanted to laugh. It wasn’t really funny, it was just alien. Another man wanted him, was aroused by him, and as far as Nick knew, that had never happened before. But of course, this wasn’t just another man, it was _Danny_ , and it was okay, because Nick was hard, too. 

He couldn’t help wondering where the kissing would lead. How far was he willing to go? How far did Danny want to go? It seemed like a bloody eternity since he had gone anywhere, so he thought he’d be happy with whatever Danny wanted. Even if Danny didn’t want anything beyond kissing. But Nick sorta did want something beyond kissing and….” 

“Nicholas?” 

“What?” 

“Stop thinkin’.” 

“I’m not….” 

“You are. You can’t lie to me, you know. I know you too well.” 

“I’m just trying to….” Danny slid his hand between their bodies, and suddenly, Nicholas couldn’t remember what he was going to say. He couldn’t even remember how to speak as Danny slid the palm of his hand over Nick’s shaft, massaging him through his pants. Nick’s gaze flew to Danny’s face, and he sought the other man’s eyes for…something. 

Danny looked back, unblinking. Nick ducked his head. Sometimes, he forgot Danny had an unerring ability to cut through all the shit. When the kissing resumed, Nicholas’ brain had slowed down considerably. Danny continued to rub him, and it was ridiculous how good it felt. He moved against Danny’s hand, seeking out more contact. It was only after Danny moaned that he realized he was also grinding against Danny’s erection. 

Now questions of what they were going to do, how far they should go, and everything else that had danced around Nick’s mind were completely banished. They moved at the same time, their fingers awkward as they fumbled with buttons and zippers. Danny’s hand was so hot against his skin, and big. Had he ever noticed how big Danny’s hand was? It didn’t matter. 

Nicholas gasped as the tip of his erection brushed against Danny’s shaft. Something electric rolled down his spine at the contact, and his eyes fluttered open. Did Danny feel that, too? It wasn’t just him, was it?

Judging from the look on Danny’s face, the answer to the first question was yes, and the answer to the second was no. Danny moved his wrist, allowing the tip to drag across his shaft again, and Nick couldn’t keep his moan at bay. His blood ran hot, close to the surface of his skin. The only way he could stop another moan was by finding Danny’s mouth again. For a moment, he felt like he was falling, like the floor beneath them was gone, or the couch had collapsed. Danny slid lower on the cushion, and Nicholas was just simply falling. 

It was the slippery sensation of losing control. Alien to Nick, but not unpleasant, and no longer unwelcome. He moved his hips faster, thrusting harder against Danny’s hand. Each downward stroke pulled a small moan from Nick’s throat. There wasn’t anything he could do to stop the noises of approval, or stop them from growing louder as the pressure increased in his groin and lower stomach. 

Nick tore his mouth away from Danny’s. He had to. He wasn’t getting enough air. His breath was ragged as he dropped his head, resting his brown on Danny’s shoulder. Danny’s free hand went to the back of his head, his fingers brushing through his short hair. Was he saying something? Nick wasn’t sure. The sound of his own heart hammering and his rough breath drowned everything else out. 

They both moved faster and faster. The tingling at the base of his spine was the only warning Nicholas had. And then he froze. Everything froze. He cried out sharply as the orgasm overtook him, his warm come coating Danny’s hand and stomach. Nick’s spine straightened, every muscle clenching as the pleasure washed over him, and then he was collapsing against Danny’s chest, small tremors still racing through his body. 

“How was that, then?” 

Nick couldn’t help his smile, but he didn’t lift his head. For the moment, he didn’t feel like moving. “Good, Danny. It was good.” 

Danny responded by turning his head and brushing his lips across Nick’s temple. It was such a little thing. Nothing, really, when compared to what just happened. But it made Nick’s heart twist a little. Danny was his partner, in every way. He had always realized that on some level, but he didn’t really know it until then. 

He lifted his head to meet Danny’s soft eyes. “Can I stay?” 

Danny smiled. “I’d like you to.” 

“Should we go to bed now? Before we get stuck like this.” 

Danny laughed. “I suppose so.” 

“Hey, Danny? I am sorry.” 

Danny’s smile immediately turned into a frown. “For what?” 

“For thinking too much.” 

“Nah, it’s all right. It’s just who you are.”

“I could be better.” 

“No, you can’t.” And it could have sounded wrong, but Nicholas knew exactly what Danny was trying to say. “You’re right just the way you are.” 

“So are you,” Nick said, before pushing himself to his feet. He took Danny’s hand and pulled him from the couch. Danny smiled, his fingers slipping between Nick’s. 

“Think we’ll still be able to make it through all the DVDs?” Danny asked, as they abandoned the living room. 

“Yeah, sure. We got to take a break occasionally, right? We might have to cut down to one a night.” 

“Sounds like a fair trade to me.” 

“Me, too,” Nicholas said as he shut the bedroom door behind them.


	2. Somewhere in the Night

Danny pulled himself out of a nightmare, which really wasn’t a nightmare at all. It was a vivid memory. Waking up in a narrow hospital bed, his body drugged and numb, but pain still lurking just below the surface. It radiated from his left side and spread through him like sunshine. It might have been the first time he woke up. It might have been the hundredth. Danny didn’t know. But that time, that one time he returned to the world he did so with the knowledge, no the _certainty_ , that Sergeant Nicholas Angel was dead. 

Of course, Nicholas wasn’t, hadn’t been. The nurses told Danny he was drugged, confused, it had just been a bad dream, but he refused to go back to sleep until they wheeled Nick into his room, still suffering internal injuries from the explosion, so he could see for himself. 

The actual event had been a drop in the bucket of pain, misery, and confusion during his recovery. It wasn’t even worth remembering. But it came to him without warning, the memory blanketing him when he was at his most defenseless. It was more of a physical memory than anything. He felt it in his solar plexus, and he felt it in the wound that would always be ugly and twisted and _there_ , and he felt it at the tips of his fingers and toes. 

The nightmare meant he wouldn’t be sleeping again. Not that night. Not until the next day, when he would finally drink himself into it, or passed out in front of the television, too exhausted to keep his eyes open another moment. He pushed the blanket aside and a muffled moan from beneath the covers stopped him short. 

_It’s Nicholas,_ his tired brain informed him. _He’s here_. 

 

Afraid that he was still moving through a dream, Danny turned back to check, and it was Nicholas. Danny stared for a moment, waiting for something to click. This certainly had never happened before. It wasn’t the first time he woke up next to Nicholas. But there was one major difference between now and all the other times. Well, Danny considered as the blanket slipped down Nick’s bare chest, two. 

First, Nicholas never slept in his bed. They slept on the couch, sitting up. Second, they were always fully clothed. 

Tentatively, Danny reached out and touched the other man’s shoulder. As soon as his fingers skimmed across the smooth skin, the rest of the night slammed through his brain. 

“Oh.” 

Danny didn’t mean to make any noise. He knew Nick could be a light sleeper. Movies didn’t seem to bother him, judging by the sheer number he managed to sleep through, but any other unexpected sound would pull him right from sleep. Now was no exception. His eyes fluttered open, already alert. 

Danny smiled a little shyly. “Hi.” 

Nicholas returned his smile, warming Danny right through. The smile was enough to banish the shadows still clinging to Danny’s mind. “Hi. Is it morning?” 

“It’s still early. Four. I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“No, no. It’s fine. I should probably be getting up anyway.” 

“Why?” 

“Shower. Get ready for work.” 

“You don’t have to. It’s Sunday.” 

Nick blinked. “That’s right.” He relaxed against the pillow. “What woke you?” 

“Nothin’. Bad dream, I guess.” 

“Oh. Sorry.” Nick tugged at his hand. “You going somewhere?” 

Danny realized he was still half out of the bed. He shook his head and stretched out on his side, facing Nick. “You should go back to sleep.”

“Not really tired.” 

His hand was moving down Danny’s chest as he spoke, and he paused at the twisted scar on his side. It was about the size of a fist, and the scar itself didn’t really hurt anymore. Nick’s fingers were almost delicate as he traced it, and brow was furrowed. He was thinking about something. What about, Danny couldn’t be certain. Maybe the accident itself, maybe the months after, maybe something else entirely. 

Despite his earlier attempts to draw Nicholas out of his own mind, Danny didn’t say anything now. He remained motionless, watching the subtle shift of Nick’s expression, waiting for some clue. Nick turned over on his side, propping his head up on his hand, and continued his light, thoughtful caress. 

Danny wasn’t the only one with scars. There was a twisted line on Nick’s arm where Amanda Paver grazed him with a bullet. There were other marks, some of which Danny knew, some of which had stories Nicholas never shared. He probably would if Danny asked. Nick was always willing to answer his questions, regardless if they were personal or professional. 

“Does it still hurt?” Nicholas asked softly.

“Nah. Are you going to lecture me again?” 

“What? No.” 

He slid over, closing the space between them. Not that there had been a great deal of space to begin with. Danny’s bed was small, smaller still with two people in it. Without moving his hand away, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Danny’s. Nick’s touch had warmed him, but the kiss, as soft as it was, turned his insides to liquid. All his blood rushed south, and he still couldn’t quite believe Nicholas Angel was in his bed, kissing him like that. 

Danny put his arm around him, rolling to his back and pulling Nick with him. Nick’s mouth was soft, sleepy. He traced Danny’s lips with his tongue before moving to deepen the kiss. His tongue moved against Danny’s slowly, coaxing a soft sigh from him. When Nick lifted his head, he was smiling. It made him look ten years younger, and Danny wished he would smile like that all of the time. 

“I didn’t think you’d ever do that.” Danny said. 

“I only just woke up.” 

“No, I mean the other. Earlier.” 

“That makes two of us, I suppose. Why didn’t you do something?”

Danny looked away. He had been watching Nicholas, one way or the other, since he arrived in Sandford—drinking his cranberry juice, scribbling in his notebook, filling out his paperwork. He watched Nick’s eyes when he surveyed a crime scene, when he made arrests, even when he was driving. He knew when Nick’s mind was going a mile a minute, speeding over ideas and theories and analyzing details—which was most of the time. Danny knew every smile, and frown, and each expression in between. But for all his watching, there were some things about Nicholas he still didn’t quite understand. 

“I didn’t know you’d want me to, did I?” 

“Why do you think I agreed to watch every movie in your library?” 

“Because they’re good movies.” 

“To spend time with you.” 

“They’re still good movies.” 

“Some.” 

“You really wanted to spend more time with me?” 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” 

“Well, we spend every day with each other anyway.” 

“Yeah.” He dipped his head and Danny expected another kiss, but his lips moved over Danny’s jaw, then his neck, then his shoulder. He watched with half-closed eyes as Nick dropped light kisses, seemingly at random. 

“But I like you,” Nick added against his skin. 

“I like you, too,” Danny murmured, unable to say anything else as Nick moved further down his body. His breath was warm where it fanned across his skin, and the hand that had been resting on his scar now moved up, smoothing over his chest. The hair on his arms stood on end, goose pimple breaking out over his skin with each drowsy caress.

Danny had movies about this, too. A private stash that even Nick hadn’t seen. He watched them alone, on the small television in his bedroom. Never in the living room. The NWA’s network of cameras had always made him uneasy. His father and Weaver had always insisted they were only in public places, designed to catch the riff-raff, to make their jobs easier. But Danny didn’t like them. They were vaguely creepy, and he couldn’t help but wonder what, exactly, would stop the NWA from installing cameras anywhere they weren’t welcome. There could have been one just across the street, pointed directly into his living room, for all he knew. And now knowing what he did, he fully expected that sort of thing had been happening. 

So Danny watched his movies privately. And he had books, too. Things he picked up when he could. His experience wasn’t limited to movies and books, of course. He went around with a few girls in school, and there had been a bloke at the academy. Mark had been his name. But Nicholas wasn’t like the movies, and he certainly wasn’t like anybody Danny had ever been with. That was no great shocker, since Nicholas wasn’t like anybody Danny had ever known, period. 

The movies always seemed messy, rushed. But Nicholas was neither. Danny fully understood why Nicholas was the best at everything he tried. It wasn’t always a bad thing to let Nick think. Especially when he was approaching something new to him. 

_I just want to be good at what I do._

At the time, Danny thought Nick meant he just wanted to be a good policeman officer, but now he knew better. Nicholas Angel wanted to be good at _everything_ he did. He didn’t do anything by half, and sex was no exception. That sort of single-mindedness was excellent for the force—service—but it added a dimension of analysis, an almost stilted quality, to his love-making that Danny found a little unsettling. Not that Danny was complaining. Not that he _could_ complain, because in Nick’s thorough research of Danny’s body, he found a very sensitive spot on his thigh, just below his hip. And he wasn’t shy about exploiting it. 

Danny hissed sharply as Nick alternated his attacks. First, he used the very tips of his fingers. It didn’t even quite feel like contact. It was more of a promise of contact. Then he increased the pressure, letting his nails scrape across the skin. Danny tensed. He wasn’t sure if it was ticklish or not. He felt something like laughter growing in his chest, but it was sharper. Nick rubbed the slightly aggravated skin with the palm of his hand, soothing it before he dipped his head and touched him with his tongue. 

It only lasted for a moment before Nick pulled away, but it sent sparks of desire through him. Danny didn’t have a chance to say anything before Nick was pulling away, going in search of another sensitive spot. 

“Is it weird for you?” Danny asked, unsure of why the question popped up then. 

“Is what weird for me?” Without lifting his head. 

“Being with a bloke. You’ve never been with one before me, have you?” 

“No. And I must not be doing it right if you can still talk.” 

“You are,” Danny said quickly. “Doing it right, that is. But you’re doing it so carefully. I wondered if it was because of that, or if, you know, that’s just the way you are.” 

Nick finally looked up, with a sort of half-grin. “Are you going to tell me to stop thinking again?” 

Danny shook his head. “Sometimes thinking isn’t so bad.” 

“I discovered something earlier tonight.” 

“What’s that?” 

“I like it when you do this.” 

Before Danny could ask him what on earth he was talking about, Nick dragged his tongue along the seam of Danny’s thigh. Danny gasped at the very first moment of contact, his legs widening of their own accord. Nick did it again and again, and each time, Danny snatched a breath like Nick had never touched him before. It felt like his entire body clenched at the contact, and an odd sensation—not pleasant, not painful—shot through his chest and stopped at his throat. He almost felt like he was choking on it. 

“You’re so sensitive,” Nick murmured, almost to himself. 

Danny _was_ so sensitive. So sensitive, in fact, that the breath from the words was enough to make his muscles tighten further. 

“It makes me wonder…” 

The muttered words were Danny’s only warning before Nick gently sunk his teeth into the flesh of his inner-thigh. It wasn’t a hard bite, but it sent ribbons of electricity through Danny’s groin, which then tangled into a big knot at the base of his spine. “Oh…god. What was that?” 

“An experiment,” Nick murmured. “It didn’t hurt, did it?” 

“Not at all.” 

The answer seemed to satisfy Nicholas. He nodded and began his exploration anew. It would have been easy for Danny to drop his head back, to close his eyes, to just focus on the way each light touch, and kiss, and nibble reverberated through his body. He could have done that, but then he would miss out on the most satisfying part. The curtains were drawn against a full moon, but enough light still filtered into the room that Danny could keep his eyes trained on Nicholas. 

Watching Nick was one of life’s pleasures, as far as Danny was concerned. And now was no exception. Danny almost wished he could lean over and turn on the light, but that just felt a bit greedy. Like he was asking for more than he really needed. Especially when Nicholas cupped his balls and began to stroke the sensitive skin with the very tips of his fingers. 

“What are you trying to do to me?” Danny asked, half-serious. 

“Everything.” 

Danny might have had a follow-up question, but it was utterly lost when he felt the unmistakable texture of Nick’s tongue brush against his cock. Like all of the contact, it was just a sample. Just an experiment. Over far too soon. Was _everything_ code for _make Danny lose his mind_? Because he thought it might be, and if that was Nick’s goal, then Danny was as good as insane. 

Nick pursed his lips and blew a soft puff of breath over Danny’s wet skin. Another careful swipe of his tongue, another cool stream of air. Danny could hear his own heart pounding crazily in his chest, but he also heard the hitch in Nick’s breathing, like somehow, this was straining his endurance more than Danny’s. Which Danny found very hard to believe, because each whisper of breath sent tiny shards through his skin.

Overwhelmed, Danny dropped his head against the pillow and finally closed his eyes. He reached for Nicholas, running his fingers through his short, soft hair. He wasn’t trying to rush Nick, wasn’t trying to asking for more or something different, he just wanted to touch him. He touched Nick’s hair, his forehead, his face, his ears, his neck. Everywhere Danny could reach, he touched. 

Nicholas shifted his attention from Danny’s shaft to his balls. He didn’t shift his tactic though. Long, slow licks. Soft puffs of air. Hot then cold then hot again. The occasional hitch of breath that sounded like he was just about to break himself. Colors swirled behind Danny’s closed eyes, and his skin was hot, his ears ringing. Would it be possible to climax from this? He didn’t know, but he thought he might, even if it wasn’t possible. 

Nick’s strong hand around his erection, and Danny jerked his hips, his muscles clenching. His thighs and arms shook, and his lungs refused to cooperate. He waited for the first stroke, but Nick didn’t move his wrist. He just held him tightly, slightly flexing and relaxing his fingers in time with Danny’s rapid pulse. He throbbed. Everywhere. 

Danny opened his mouth, but he lacked the energy required to speak. He lacked the air, too. He shifted against the mattress, moving his hips, trying to force Nick to begin moving his hand. Just a little. Just one stroke to build the friction. Anything. _Something_. But even if Danny couldn’t speak, Nicholas seemed to understand, because he finally wrapped his lips around the tip of his cock. 

Danny thrust forward, but Nick put his other hand on his thigh and pushed him back to the bed. His fingers dug into Danny’s flesh, just enough to keep him still. It was hard. His skin was crawling, his blood running too close to the surface, his balls throbbing. He felt like he tight. Everything was tight, his muscles too tense. 

Nicholas’ assault against him didn’t cease. He was merely shifting directions. Now that he had his lips around Danny’s head, he held still, his cheeks hollowing. The suction he created around Danny’s flesh was unbelievably, literally unlike anything Danny had ever experienced. Occasionally, Nick’s tongue would move against his skin, gathering his pre-come. 

“Nicholas…I can’t take this…” 

Nick looked at him through his eyelashes, his eyes dark. Danny wished he could read his thoughts, wished he knew exactly what was going through his mind in that moment. Maybe he was just weighing the pros and cons of continuing this torture. Maybe he was waiting for something else from Danny, but Danny had no idea what it could be. Did Nick want him to plead? Beg? Was there a magic word he didn’t know? 

“Nick…” 

That must have been it, because Nicholas pulled away from him. Danny whimpered in frustration. That wasn’t what he meant. He didn’t want less. He wanted _more_. But his frustration was quickly forgotten when Nick moved up his body and pressed his mouth against Danny’s. The kiss was a little too rushed, maybe a bit sloppy, but Danny didn’t care. Especially when Nick finally began to stroke him. 

Danny knew he was already close to coming, but he had no idea just how close he was. It could have been seconds or minutes after Nick started touching him—Danny wasn’t sure. He lost all sense of time and place, entirely focused on the growing tension in his lower stomach, the pain in his groin. He panted for breath against Nick’s mouth and strained against his hand. 

“Christ, Danny…” 

Danny didn’t know if it was the tone of Nick’s voice, his hot breath, the hunger he heard in the simple words. Whatever it was, it nudged Danny over the edge. Nick lifted his head, his gaze intent on Danny’s face. Danny closed his eyes and bit his tongue to keep from shouting, aware that Nick was watching every second of his orgasm, committing it to memory. He shuddered, a hot wave of pleasure washing through him, and then he was limp and breathless against the bed. 

“Did it work?” 

Sound. Talking. Nicholas was talking to him. “What?” 

“Did it work?” 

Danny had no idea what he could be talking about, but from his point of view, things had worked out nicely. So he nodded. 

“You don’t know what I mean, do you?” 

Danny shook his head. 

“Your bad dream.” 

Danny opened his eyes. Nick was still laying half on top of him, and his oddly serious face was only a few inches away. 

“What about it?” 

“I heard you, talking in your sleep.” 

“You did?” 

Nick nodded. “Do you have that dream often?” 

“Yeah, you know, a couple of times a month or so. It’s not a big deal.” 

“It sounded like it was.” 

“Was all that to make me forget about my dream?” 

“Yes.”   
Danny smiled. “I forgot about it as soon as I realized you were here with me.” 

Nicholas rolled to settle on the bed again—his side of the bed, if he wanted it. Danny wasn’t sure how that would work out. Maybe Nick wouldn’t want to actually live with him, though he did spend almost all his free time at Danny’s place anyway. 

“Danny…” 

“What?” 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yes. Why?” 

“You just sounded really…upset…” 

Danny moved to his side, placing his hand on Nick’s flat stomach. His muscles twitched beneath Danny’s palm. “Yes. I am sure.” 

“You should try to get some more sleep.” 

Danny’s hand moved lower, his fingers brushing against Nick’s erection. “But what about…” 

“Make it up to me tomorrow morning. After you get some sleep.” 

Danny obediently closed his eyes, and listened to the soft rhythm of Nick’s breath. They moved closer and closer, their legs and arms shifting, their fingers entwining, their foreheads touching. It was easy to drift back to sleep, but he could feel Nicholas’ eyes on him. 

“You’re watching me, aren’t you?” 

“I am.” 

“What are you thinking about?” 

“You.” Nick kissed him softly. “Now go to sleep.” 

“What will everybody at the station think?” 

“They won’t notice a difference, Danny. Everybody already thinks we do this sort of thing.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh.” 

Danny had more to say about that, but it was much easier to give in to Nicholas and sleep. The dream he fell into was warm and entirely new. But it was more of a memory of Nick’s mouth than a dream. And Danny didn’t want it to end.


End file.
